A/N: Just a quick lil something I wrote at 6am when I was pissed off and unable to sleep D: R/R loves! :D
Disclaimer since I forgot the first time: Unfortunately, I own nothing, but I am willing to own Ed Westwick! :D
Your breathing is erratic, audible, irregular and noticeable as your lips are parted slightly, chest rising and falling at an alarming pace. Your eyes, though still there navy color of perfection, are now hollow and empty as you gaze into the once solid mirror, now shattered into a thousand pieces. Gone is the tan complexion you gained from lounging in the Hamptons with Nate until you left mid-June, leaving him with his summer fling he found within the first week (much to your surprise and slight disappointment), and in its place is ghost-white flesh. The tears that fill your navy eyes make everything blurry, but you don't even know they're falling until you blink, feeling the unexpected sting of your eyes.
And then it crashes into you.
Like waves crashing against the rocks at a beach, hard and fast, yet the emphasis of it unexpected in a way. A pain so sharp, stabbing at your fists as you finally break out of your trace-like state you'd fallen into when staring at the broken mirror. The red substance trails from your knuckles, down the back of your hands, leaving a trail down each finger until it turns to one drop falling from each finger onto the carpeted floor. The numb feeling was gone, replaced with the most unbearable feeling, no longer physical, but emotional.
It starts inside your stomach, twisting and churning until it attacks your heart, just like a knife. It's almost like a ball of fire inside of you, coursing its way through every vein and passageway inside of your small frame until you are burning up and infuriated. Infuriated with him for leaving you. Infuriated with her for re-entering your life and ruining it in the process. Infuriated with him once again, for judging you.
But mostly infuriated with yourself.
Because you know you caused it, despite what Blair, Nate, and even Chuck have told you. Because you know that if you had gone about the situation differently, things just may have turned out better. Because you are the reason it became a worst-case scenario and you lost the one person you will lay your life down for without a second thought (other than your 3 best friends who were there for you throughout it all). Because you let Georgina Sparks come in like a spider that can't be killed- annoying you, driving you to the point of insanity and paranoia because she wouldn't leave you the hell alone. And when she finally is gone, it's too late. The damage is done. Dan no longer wants you and you're just like that mirror in front of you- shattered into a million pieces, yet still keeping it together, no piece falling, yet every part broken.
Irregular breathing and all, you let that ball of fire inside of your conform and twist as rage begins filling your body, eyes no longer hollow, but filled with a burning flame of fury. And you know you can't hold back any longer. Just like that broken mirror in front of you, you have shattered, but you are still holding yourself together, not for your own sake, but for the sake of others. And as you draw your arm back, your bloodied hand curls into the tightest of fists as it slams into the mirror one final time, and finally, the mirror breaks, shattering into a million pieces as it falls, and you fall with it, coming to your knees in that locked bathroom with your arms around your waist, hands clutching at your sides as you let out an ear piercing scream. Not a high-pitched one, but a low one that came out with a growl underlying it.
One that shakes every vocal chord inside of your, one coming from the depths of your stomach, releasing every single ounce of anger, confusion, strife, hurt and frustration you kept inside since Georgina came back, colliding with the sound of the glass crashing against the marble countertop of the sink, bouncing off and hitting the bare skin of your shoulders and shoulder blades, clawing at your white tank top. You put everything you have into that scream, letting that ball of fire emerge in the growl that seems to come out with it. Your slightly sharp fingernails dig into the skin of your sides, clawing at the pale flesh as your let everything out, finally breaking the skin as small droplets of blood begin to form.
And when you feel as if your can't take it anymore, as if your lungs will burst and your vocal chords will shatter as well, you stop, a deathly silence surrounding you along with the pieces of glass. Hot tears of anger are rolling down your face. And you finally realize that you are just like that mirror, having shattered until all it took as was one little thing to make you break completely. Because even though you are the "It" Girl, "Miss Perfect", "Miss Holier-Than-Thou" and the "Bad Girl Gone Good" to the public eye of the Upper East Side, and all of Manhattan, you still know the truth. You know that no matter what people may say, you are just like them.
Because you are Serena Celia van der Woodsen, and just like that mirror, you could only take so much before you reached your breaking point, and all it took was one little thing after that before you were broken; shattered into a million pieces on the ground, never to be the same again no matter how hard anyone tried.